Fiend's Reflection
by lalalei
Summary: Post-Battle City. Marik thought the most difficult part of giving up his power was the shadows' insistence he reclaim it. But the hardest thing of all may be facing himself.
Marik Ishtar had given the Millennium Rod to Yugi, and the Ring as well, but the energies of the Shadow Realm still called to him. He could feel it in his bones, in his heart, in every waking moment just before sleep. No matter how many times he told the shadows that no, he _wasn't_ going to change his mind, they refused to leave him be.

It made reconciling his past actions difficult, to say the least. Marik knew it wasn't fair to _solely_ blame the Realm—everyone had their own issues, after all—but the whispers and snatches of the power he'd cast away weren't helping. He could sense the dark tendrils at the edges of his consciousness, though they never directly intruded on his thoughts. They merely waited for him to accept them.

If he did, he knew, it would start all over again.

What really bothered Marik, though he didn't dare voice it, was the part of him that _did_ want them back—the abilities to control minds, to send others sprawling with a wave of his hand, to magically paralyze anyone that displeased him. The Rod's powers were intoxicating when he had it, and now that he was bereft of it—by his own choice, no less—it was clear that he was suffering from withdrawal symptoms.

 _You had an army_ , the shadows whispered. _What do you have now?_

Marik thought of several answers to the question—freedom, light, family, crushing guilt—but it seemed the one answer they'd accept was _nothing_.

And when Marik still refused to listen to the shadows' call, they upped their game. He started _seeing_ the darkness as well, in cracks and in corners and, once, in his own shadow. Violet fog that only he could see snaked out of anywhere dark, refusing to leave even when he blinked or turned away. Acknowledgement, the Shadow Realm seemed to say, was the first step in regaining what was lost.

Ishizu and Odion could help if Marik asked. He knew they could, and knew they would. But after all the trouble he'd caused, and after banishing his darker personality, he thought he should at least _try_ to handle it on his own first. It wouldn't be fair if they fought his battles for him. He had much to atone for, and much to work out by himself.

And yet…

"Ishizu, Odion. There's something I have to tell you," Marik said one night when the shadows around him seemed thicker than usual. "The Shadow Realm has been calling to me."

Odion was instantly alert. "Do you need us, Master Marik?"

Marik forced a reassuring smile. "Just Marik is fine. And no. I plan to overcome this on my own, if I can. This is my problem to solve."

His smile faltered. "But…if I fail, then yes, I would need your help."

Odion nodded. "I have no doubt that you will succeed"—he paused—"Marik."

Ishizu quietly stepped forward, placing a hand on her brother's shoulder to reassure him. "I've felt the shadows' energy for some time as well. Though I can no longer foretell the future, Marik, know that Odion and I both believe in you—we always have."

Marik's smile was more genuine, then, though his brow arched in worry. As much as his siblings could offer support, this task was still his to complete.

"I will do my best," he said finally.

Ishizu and Odion left, leaving Marik alone. As soon as they exited, the energy in the room shifted. It felt colder, the darkness more oppressive, and the door now seemed impossible to reach. Any avenue of escape was slowly, gently cut off.

When nothing happened beyond that Marik sneered at the darkness. Were the shadows frightened, now, after taunting him for so long? Perhaps they should be. _He_ wasn't frightened of them. Not anymore.

"I'm right here," Marik drawled, feeling fire run through his veins. "Come and get me. …Or would you rather play a _game_?"

He realized his mistake an instant too late.

With nothing to hold them back the shadows poured in, surrounding Marik. The darkness ate at the walls and floor until they vanished entirely, leaving him alone in the Shadow Realm. His darker half, Yami Marik, had known the Realm and its properties quite well, but Marik himself was also familiar with the place. He'd known enough to want to send the Pharaoh there even before the darkness had fully overtaken his heart.

Marik struggled to recall what he knew as the shadows swirled patiently around him. The most common way to enter the Shadow Realm was through a game. The loser would wander until their body wasted away, or worse, had their soul shredded to pieces. And once you were _in_ the Realm…

He swallowed. Once you were in, there was almost no way out.

Marik cursed his foolishness. Challenging the shadows themselves to a game!? He hadn't set any conditions, which meant the shadows controlled the stakes. On top of that, Marik had neglected to bring his deck with him, so dueling was out of the question. That meant he had no control over what kind of game it would be, either.

Before he could think about the situation further, the darkness around him shifted and took form. Marik had to laugh at the shadows' idea of dramatics; his own Ghouls surrounded him, their hoods obscuring any expression and sense of individuality. If this was meant to frighten him, they'd have to do better than—

Hands lashed out and seized him from all sides; in seconds, Marik could barely move. Crying out (of reflex, not fear, he told himself), Marik struggled against them to no avail. They hauled him away, the mass of bodies and the robes preventing him from seeing much. For a moment he worried he'd suffocate, but after walking for several minutes, all but two of the Ghouls released him. The rest fanned out, letting him see what was waiting before him.

Marik could only stare.

Bakura he could deal with, if not fully understand. Yami Marik he could deal with—he already had.

But it was quite difficult for Marik to deal with, let alone comprehend, being dragged before himself.

The image of Marik—he wasn't sure what else to call it—rested lazily on a golden throne, much like the one he'd sat upon as leader of the Ghouls and Rare Hunters. The only major difference in their appearances was that his double wore a Pharaoh's headpiece, gold glinting against his forehead. Marik couldn't deny that it looked like it _belonged_ there.

His doppelganger sneered at him. "Took you long enough."

He motioned to his men, who released the real Marik and swiftly vanished into the shadows—though Marik got the feeling that, should they be needed, they would reappear just as quickly. It was the sort of thing he planned for, and this reflection of him would do likewise. Otherwise it wouldn't be him at all.

"I take it you're my _better_ half," Marik snarled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

His double smirked. "You could say that. I'm what you _could_ be, if you just took initiative and accepted the darkness once more. You could be Pharaoh, yet."

The real Marik glared at his reflection. "You realize what you're asking is impossible, don't you? Yugi has the Rod now, and—"

"And you'd steal it back if you had the mind to. _Nothing_ stopped you when you had a goal, except your own displaced rage and pain. And with that gone…"

He didn't need to finish, because Marik knew the answer. It was something he'd grappled with even before he'd sensed the shadows calling to him.

With Yami Marik gone, he could start it again if he wanted, so easily. He could be the new Pharaoh, he could have everything he—

Marik shook his head, furious at how easily his thoughts shifted to darker things. "That's enough! The Pharaoh and I have made amends. I may not _like_ him, but he holds no ill will against me. And I believe I asked for a _game_."

His reflection fixed him with a grin. "You did. And since you were foolish enough to be vague, the conditions are mine to set."

The shadows around them quieted, listening eagerly.

"If _you_ win, you'll walk free from the Shadow Realm, and the darkness as you know it will never bother you again."

Marik didn't like how that was phrased, but said nothing. Angering the shadows would make the stakes even higher. His doppelganger paused, savoring his helplessness, before continuing.

"If _I_ win, you accept the darkness and all that entails."

Marik ground his teeth in frustration; that sounded even worse. He suddenly wondered if Yami Marik would have emerged even if he'd defeated the Pharaoh himself. Though he didn't want to admit it, the thought frightened him.

"Very well. Then I'll choose the game," he said at last, refusing to let the shadows decide his fate entirely.

"Name it."

Marik's answer was immediate. "A timed puzzle."

His double grinned in delight. There was a spark of madness to his eyes, so much like his own eyes at Battle City. "I hope your ability to focus is up to par, then."

Before Marik could demand an explanation, his reflection snapped his fingers. The Ghouls closed in on them both, filling Marik's line of sight, and when they retreated there was nothing before him save a puzzle and a timer. The timer was set for 15 minutes. The puzzle itself…

It _had_ to be one of those compact, hundred-piece jigsaw puzzles, he thought with dismay, but at least it wasn't 3D. Marik could work with this, even if there was no guide image. The first step, he decided, would be edge pieces. He crouched over the board, as it was flat on the ground, and picked up the first edge piece he saw.

Instantly, a jolt ran through his body, an electrical tingle. Marik tried to see where the piece could fit, but there were a lot of choices. He placed it at random on the right edge of the board and was relieved to see it light up, sinking into the mass and becoming immovable.

Confidence boosted, Marik selected a piece that looked like it would connect to the first shape and tried to press them together.

It _resisted_ , burning him, and when Marik drew back from pain he felt the shadows curl around him, biting into the hand that had chosen poorly. He wasn't bleeding, but the pain was sharp, and there was an aching throb to it that refused to fade. Marik glanced down at the wound and saw, with horror, that in the deepest cuts he could see through his hand and into the shadows beyond.

He continued to stare, eyes wide, and the darkness seemed to laugh at him.

 _Focus, Marik_ , he reminded himself. Now that he knew the penalty for a wrong answer he had to be even more cautious. Marik looked at the board again and could have smacked himself—he should have started with the corner pieces first; there were only four of them! Quickly, Marik pored through the scattered puzzle pieces and found what he was looking for.

After some trial and error, during which the shadows cut against his arms like a knife when he got one wrong, he'd successfully placed all of the corner pieces. That left more edges, and the toughest section, the middle. Marik had no idea what to do for that—at least not without incurring more penalties—but he'd chosen this game, and there was no turning back now. He had to see it through, for himself and his future.

Five minutes passed, and Marik successfully completed the border of the puzzle. It wasn't without cost. The shadows had given enough penalties to _stay_ with him, even when he succeeded at inserting a piece. His entire body felt on pins and needles, static running through his veins, and there was a persistent headache that refused to leave. Marik knew if he continued as he had, it was probable he would be killed before time ran out.

He had to think of a new strategy.

Marik stared at the puzzle pieces, thinking, and suddenly an answer came to him—why not put them together _outside_ the puzzle frame, then transfer them over when he was sure they were right? It didn't sound like cheating, and given that the shadows were actively thirsting for him, it might be his only option to survive.

Rejuvenated by his idea, he set to work—and was soon distracted by the sound of laughter. It was close, too close, to his right, and Marik whipped around to see Arkana leering at him. The magician had been one of his Rare Hunters, but had failed to beat Yugi when ordered to. And for failing, Marik had… what had he done, again? It seemed so long ago, the memories coming back to him in a haze.

" _Liar_ ," the magician spat.

Oh. Right. He'd tried to send him to the Shadow Realm as punishment. And not only that, he'd given him false hope to reunite with his love, Catherine. The only excuse Marik could think of was that it seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, however, he saw it for what it was. Manipulative. Monstrous.

…Wait. The key word there was _tried_ to send him. Yugi had rescued the man at the last minute; Arkana shouldn't be here at all!

 _This is a distraction_ , Marik thought, slamming a puzzle piece into the board to emphasize it. He flinched as the darkness snaked around his left wrist, but the magician had vanished. If the Shadow Realm was trying to make him lose focus, it meant he was on the right track.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Marik resumed his work. The more he put the middle pieces together the clearer the entire puzzle became. It wasn't a picture at all, but a phrase, violet letters swirling on a dark background. It reminded him of the Shadow Realm itself.

Carefully, he placed what he'd completed onto the board, grinning as the pieces were accepted. _Something you can_ … it read thus far; the rest was cut off.

Marik stole a glance at the clock. 7 minutes left. But with a strategy at hand, and words to help him guess at a solution, he felt confident that he could finish. No, not could; he _would_ finish. He would solve this puzzle; he would get out of the Shadow Realm.

Five pieces clicked into place.

He would walk free from the darkness for good. He would feel anger without the bite of hatred, sorrow without the weight of despair.

Ten pieces. Fifteen. Twenty.

Given time, perhaps he would even forgive himself.

With three minutes left to go, Marik held the last piece in his hands and placed it on the board. The complete puzzle read: _Something you can show but can't see_.

"I did it," Marik crowed, daring the shadows to respond. In seconds, the Ghouls returned, but Marik was determined not to care. He didn't care when the mass of thugs took him, exhausted as he was, by the arms and forced him to kneel before the image of himself. He didn't care that his doppelganger looked as smug and self-assured as when he'd first seen him. He'd _won_.

Marik's elation was short-lived when he saw that the clock was still ticking.

"Not bad," his double sneered, "but you only solved the first part of the puzzle. Now you must provide the shadows with a satisfactory answer. If you fail to respond within the time limit, that will count as a loss."

The reflection of Marik stood from the throne and leaned down to whisper the question.

"What is something you can show but can't see?"

Marik fixed his doppelganger with a glare. "Weakness. You may wear a crown, but you're no Pharaoh. And neither am I."

The shadows caressed somewhere along the top of his head, burrowing past his hair and digging into his scalp. They felt like skittering, biting insects, eating away at his body, his mind—

 _ **Focus**_ , Marik mentally shouted, trying to drown out the pain with noise. Clearly, that had been a wrong answer by the Shadow Realm's standards. How many was he allowed? He twisted his body to look at the clock and saw there was only a minute left.

"Two guesses left," the image of Marik said with a grin.

Marik thought more carefully before answering. What could satisfy the darkness and still let him win? Perhaps what he'd tried to prove by going here in the first place.

"Strength," he shouted. "It's something you can sense in a person, not see, and I'll prove the darkness doesn't have what it takes to defeat me."

The Ghouls released him, but the Shadow Realm did not. Marik looked down at his hands and saw they were nearly transparent; the buzz in his head had grown to a roar and the needles pricking him had become spikes. He didn't have to listen hard to hear his reflection's mocking laughter.

"Who's losing _now_ ," Marik's double sneered.

He looked at the timer.

Fifteen seconds left.

There was no time left to think, and he was out of ideas.

He'd failed.

Marik closed his eyes, ready to surrender—and then, in an instant, it hit him.

The darkness's true power was _misdirection_. He knew that firsthand.

Then maybe…

The more he thought about what he was doing, the more he thought about what it all _meant_ , the more Marik was sure of his response.

This was the answer. It had to be.

Marik rose from his knees to look his reflection square in the eyes.

"My answer is acceptance," Marik said.

For just a moment, his heart stopped.

In another moment, it kept beating.

His doppelganger broke into a grin, eyes wide. "So, you admit your loss and accept the Shadow Realm's darkness! Excellent—the shadows have _many_ things planned for you…"

Marik grinned right back. "I didn't say I accepted _this_ darkness."

The image of Marik froze. "What do you mean?"

"It's simple. The Shadow Realm's darkness is one thing, and the hatred that made my dark half is another. But what I've chosen to accept, here and now, is the darkness within _myself_."

To punctuate his statement Marik reached out and plucked the Pharaoh's headpiece off of his double, who was too stunned to resist.

The real Marik smirked.

"You _were_ right, in a way. I _could_ be the Pharaoh if I wanted, and I can't completely lay the thought to rest. But if I can't _rid_ myself of that darkness inside me… then I'll just have to live with it."

Marik held the golden crown in his hands, considering, then decisively tossed it away.

The world around him shattered.

The Ghouls, who had looked ready to tear him apart, drew back as if they were on fire. His reflection lunged for him, hands grasping for his throat, but before the image could reach Marik it vanished. The static in his head faded to a whisper before vanishing completely; the phantom cuts and wounds on his body healed as if he'd never felt pain at all.

The shadows slowly solidified, then faded, revealing the familiar walls, ceiling, floor—and a door. Marik opened it and greeted Ishizu and Odion with the first genuine smile since the shadows had first called to him.

He still had darkness within him. Everyone did. What mattered most was that the darkness _outside_ him was gone. And with his siblings' support, Marik was confident it would remain that way.

The thing about mirrors, he realized, was that they didn't only reflect darkness. They reflected light as well.


End file.
